Eye of the Storm
by Ich bin ein Schmetterling
Summary: This is the story of the 21st Hunger Games. The one they didn't teach you about in school. The one you're not meant to know about. This is my Hunger Games, and this is the story of how I died.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Storm**

I try to keep my eyes closed for as long as possible, but the sun has risen, shining through my blinds and forcing me to get up. Maybe it's for the best. After all, this may be the last day I get to enjoy the sun in the freedom of my home, District Four. I get up, throw on my swimming trunks and a t shirt, and go into the kitchen to get some food. My father's sitting at the table, drinking tea and staring into space, but he looks up when I enter and nods good morning, his face sombre. My mother's not awake yet, but that's not unusual. It's still quite early. As my thoughts turn to my mother, I suddenly lose my appetite. I don't know what she'll do if I'm reaped. She suffers from periods of chronic depression, where she can't leave her bed for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Not even my father can help when she gets like that. I don't know why, but she responds to me. Not enough to overcome her depression, but enough that I can persuade her to eat, at least. She's been like that for as long as I can remember, so I don't really know what started it. I asked my father about it one time when we were out fishing, but he just stared into the distance with a hard look in his eyes and told me the Capitol had taken everything from her. I didn't ask any more questions.

"Dad, I'm going down to the harbour," I say. "I'll see you at the reaping."

He just nods and goes back to staring into his teacup. It's the same every year. My father isn't a man of many words at the best of times, but when reaping day comes around he can't bring himself to say anything at all. I know he worries about my mother too.

As I leave my home, I can't help thinking it may be the last time I do. Pessimism shrouds my thoughts today. Our little bungalow may not be much, but it's the only home I've ever known. I walk the five minutes to the harbour with my mind preoccupied, wondering if it's the last time I'll walk this pebbly road, the last time I'll jump off the pier into the cool blue ocean… I shake my head, forcing myself to snap out of it. I can't begin that line of thought. Besides, it probably won't be me. We are a fairly large district, and there are plenty of boys it could be. As I reach the low wall separating the road from the harbour, I pull off my t shirt, kick my shoes off and start to run down the pier, taking a giant leap into the air as I got to the edge. I stretch my arms above my head and pull into a graceful dive, skimming the top of the water. I love the ocean. I know it sounds cheesy and cliché, but it's the one place I really feel I belong.

"Hey, Storm! You're late this morning; I thought you weren't showing up!"

My best friend, Seb, is over by the sea wall, at the one place we know we can get out. Usually, only authorised fishing boats are allowed out of the harbour through the gate, but most of the kids around here know about the log. I don't know who, but someone had the idea ages ago to shove a curved, hollow log under the wall, through the sand. It has quite a wide diameter, so even though I've grown up to be quite well built, I can still manage to squeeze through. I swim swiftly through the harbour, over to Seb, and then dive down, without greeting him, and kick my way through the log. He follows closely behind.

"Looks like we weren't only one's to have this idea," Seb comments, looking in the direction of a girl sitting on a rock a couple of hundred metres away.

Reaping day is a national holiday, so most people spend it with their families, just in case. I couldn't bear remaining in my house alone with my parents though, not when they're in this state. So, the past couple of years, Seb and I have made it a kind of tradition to come hear and go on what could well be our last swim. Seems like this girl's family is as depressing as mine, or she has no fear of what might happen.

The sun momentarily hides behind a cloud and I can clearly see the girl's face. It's Iris Kesley, a girl in my class at school. I was wrong; she doesn't have a depressing family to escape from. She doesn't have a family. Her mother died giving birth to her and her father committed suicide soon after. She had one older sister, Dawn, but she was selected for the Hunger Games last year. She didn't make it back. Iris has lived in the Community Home since she was a baby, but I never see her with any of the other children there. Or anyone, really. She keeps to herself, same as me. Only I have my family, and Seb, and she has no one. I can't help but remember that one afternoon we spent together…

"Are you okay?" Seb asks, concerned.

I snap out of it, and smile at him. "Yeah, never better. Now let's go get some shellfish."

The morning passes far too quickly. The reaping starts at half past ten, so at quarter past we start to make our way over to the town square. I put my t shirt back on, but don't bother going home to change. My trunks will dry quickly enough anyway. We go to sign in together, but then separate as Seb heads over to the other sixteen year old boys while I go stand with the fifteen year olds. I spot Iris somewhere on my right, in the girls' section, but she doesn't look around. She's staring straight forward at the stage, a solemn, determined look in her eyes.

A minute later, District Four's very own escort, Maisy Lee, skips onto the stage, her ginger curls bouncing. Following her is the man who will mentor the tributes, a strong, young fisherman who used to work with my father.

"Hello, District Four!" Maisy screeches. "It's time for another reaping! Isn't this exciting? Now let's get started! Ladies first!"

She skips over to the reaping ball and withdrew a piece of paper. I look over at the girls, praying it wouldn't be someone I know. Especially not Iris. I've only spoken to her once, but for some unknown reason, I can't get her out of my head. It can't be her. It just can't be.

"Samantha Jones!"

I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't recognise the name. A girl steps forward though, from the seventeen year old section. She's blonde, tanned and athletic looking, and she doesn't even look scared. The best we could hope for, really.

"Any volunteers?" Maisy asks, once Samantha's reached the stage.

"Me. I volunteer."

My head snaps round, towards the speaker. It can't be… But she's already walking towards the stage; people are clapping. No! Iris…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yeah, I changed the title. I couldn't resist the pun ;) Enjoy, and review please! ^^**

**Chapter Two**

**Iris**

I jump as I hear the knock at the door. I didn't expect anyone to come. I don't have any friends, and the only family I've ever known was taken from me last year. And since I volunteered, no one's going to visit me out of pity. I think briefly of the people at the community home, but dismiss that thought quickly. The Peacekeepers that run the place couldn't care less about me, and I've never really socialised with the other children. I think they think I'm weird.

"Come in," I say, as my curiosity gets the better of me.

A boy with tanned skin and a haze of thick black hair pops his head around the door and enters, nervously.

"Storm? What are you doing here?" I demand, genuinely surprised. I've only spoken to Storm once, years ago, and I didn't think I'd made that much of an impression on him. If our roles were reversed, I wouldn't have come. I would've tried to forget that I knew him, that we shared that one memory…

"Why did you do it?" He asks flatly, his expression a mask, but his dark grey eyes staring intently into mine. I won't lie to him. I owe him more than that.

"There's nothing left for me here," I say, turning away so I don't have to meet his gaze. "The Capitol took everything from me. They deserve to pay for what they did. They deserve to be made accountable for my sister's death. Because when it comes down to it, they killed a child. An innocent child. I should've volunteered for her, but I froze up. Instead I let my mentally handicapped sister die. That was unforgivable. But this ends here. There will be no more Hunger Games. It's cruel, it's barbaric, and it will not continue."

His voice drops to a whisper, as if terrified we're being overheard. "Iris… You can't say things like that… They'll kill you."

I laugh, bitterly. "Do you think I don't know that? I would've killed myself if I didn't know there was something I needed to do first! Think of Neil, in the room next to this one. He's twelve years old! You think he's ever going to see his family again? How can they possibly justify this? It's wrong, Storm, and I'm going to stop it. I know I'll die trying, there's no way to avoid it, but I will die a martyr. It's time for change; I know it!"

"But why you?" He begs, and I can hear the pain in his voice. He doesn't know me; why is he acting like this?

"Because I'm the only one who can!" I exclaim, losing my temper. "I have nothing left to live for. I have no one I love left that they can torture. And best of all, no one will miss me."

"That's not true," he whispers. All the anger and hurt has left his face, and been left with _pity._ I don't like it. What right has he got to pity me?

"It is. What would you know? You don't know me! I spoke to you once, Storm; get over it. Leave. Forget about me. I'm never coming back and you can't make me change my mind."

I glare at him, furiously. He's just a _boy.___And my mind is made up. He'll never see me again, except for on TV, so he may as well give it up. It's dangerous for him to care about me.

Storm opens his mouth to say something, but lets out a sigh and looks down.

"Then I guess this is goodbye… I'll miss you, Iris." As he looks up, I see his eyes glisten.

"No, you won't. If you wanted to, you could've said hi to me anytime in the past ten years, while we've been in the same class. But you didn't. I was worth one afternoon of your time, but that was it. Then everything returned to normal. You went back to your _normal _friends, and I went back to being nobody. I didn't see at all last year, as I was watching my sister get ripped apart in the arena. So, I've got to ask, why the fuck do you care now?"

"I always cared, Iris. I just didn't know what to say… You found out more about me in that one afternoon then my best friend has in all the years we've hung out, and I have to admit, I was scared, and I was stupid. And by the time I got over my shyness, too much time had gone by and I thought you'd forgotten about me. I'm sorry. I really am."

"Well, you shouldn't care anymore. I'm not worth it."

"Time's up!" the Peacekeeper calls through the door.

"I couldn't agree less," he says, softly. "Goodbye, and please don't die."


End file.
